


magical

by cautiouslyoptimistic



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10074743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cautiouslyoptimistic/pseuds/cautiouslyoptimistic
Summary: her name is kara danvers, she's alex’s adopted sister, she's an exchange student from ilvermorny, she's not from krypton, she has no powers, and she'll stay away from luthoror, clark leaves kara at hogwarts where she breaks all of clark's rules one by one





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is for @bloodsilver over on tumblr. even though she can write better than me. even though she didn't actually ask me to write it. the point is you can just blame her for this i know i do

The day she arrives at Hogwarts the castle is still and silent. Clark tells her it’s because students don’t arrive until September and most of the professors spend their holiday away from the castle, and all Kara can think is why? Why would anyone ever want to leave… _this_?

Krypton was full of tall, sleek buildings, of fast moving hovercrafts, dense smog, and a deep red sky. But Hogwarts—Hogwarts is expansive and wide, some sort of wide sports arena near the forest, a dark lake (riddled with soft ripples and the occasional tentacle) marring the otherwise expansive and seemingly never ending grounds. Everything is bright and green and _old_ , and it’s enough to distract Kara from the ache in her chest that she hasn’t been able to shake since Clark pulled her out of her pod.

She follows her cousin now, wordlessly mimicking his casual and easy gait, trying to balance her wonder at the place he’s invited her to and the wonder she feels each time she takes him in. He’s so old, a few gray hairs at his temples, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiles, a bit of stubble on his chin where he didn’t shave properly after she distracted him by nearly setting fire to his apartment that morning. He has a smile on his face, almost as if he’s entirely unaware of it, and when he catches her looking at him, the smile widens as he pauses on the path to the castle, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Are you scared?” he asks her, straightening her glasses for her. She’s still not used to them, hating the way they impair her vision, and she lets them slide down the bridge of her nose far more often than she probably should.

“No,” she says, blatantly lying. Clark chuckles and bends so that they’re eye-level.

“It’s okay to be frightened, Kara,” he tells her, adjusting his own glasses needlessly and making her smile. “But this is the most protected place in the world, no one is going to know Superman’s little cousin is here.”

“Why can’t you stay?”

“Jeremiah needs my help,” he says simply, not going into detail. The Danvers weren’t a wizarding family (she has been informed this means Alex is what they call ‘muggleborn’ not that that makes any sense to her at all), but they were involved heavily with the movement to make Earth safer for aliens. Between that and Superman’s very public clashing with Lex Luthor (the leader of the wizarding faction committed to hunting down and eliminating all aliens), it was decided that Kara would stay at Hogwarts—where it’s safe—until things calmed down.

“But I don’t have _magic_.” She says the word in a whisper, unsure if they’re still supposed to keep that a secret like they were as they travelled to Hogwarts ‘the muggle way.’

“You will. Your Kryptonian cells will absorb the magic in the air, just remember—”

“—my name is Kara Danvers, I’m Alex’s adopted sister, I’m an exchange student from Ilvermorny, I’m not from Krypton and I have no powers,” she recites, pulling away from Clark and avoiding his eyes.

“This is for your safety, Kara. You’re not the only alien at Hogwarts, but you’re the only one with a target on your back.” He sounds awfully sad, even guilty, and Kara looks back up at him, unable to stay angry for long. She wonders what her mother would say—Kara had been sent to Earth to protect Clark, but now he’s the one doing all the protecting. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for our appointment with Professor Henshaw.”

“Who is he?” Kara asks as they begin walking once more. The closer they get to the castle, the easier Kara finds it is to keep her eyes off Clark, distracted by the bustling noises she hears from within Hogwarts—the chattering, the screeching of stone against stone, the clank of shoes against the ground. She hopes that Clark is right and she’ll learn to block out all the extraneous noise, because otherwise she worries it will take merely a few days before she’s driven mad. ( _“It’s too loud,”_ she’d shouted at Clark when he pulled her out of her pod. _“Make it stop!”_ )

“Professor Henshaw is sort of like the alien counselor at Hogwarts. He’s in charge of the program, and besides Alex, he’s the only one who knows who you are. You can trust him.”

“Is he…” She trails off, not quite sure how to word her question, English still unfamiliar on her tongue. On Krypton, she’d been praised for being so proficient in learning a variety of languages. Here on Earth, there’s no one to impress. “Is he like me?” she finally settles on, slowing enough that Clark turns to her and she can study the look in his eyes, wanting to ensure he’s not going to lie.

“Humans don’t pose a danger, Kara,” Clark says quietly, avoiding her question entirely. She wonders if that’s answer enough. “For the most part, they’re kind and accepting.”

“Then why do I have to lie?”

“Because your cousin is Superman,” he says, stopping once again to place his hands on her shoulders, though this time he drops to his knees and looks up at her. “You will make friends here, Kara. You’ll meet people who won’t care about your biology or what planet you’re from. But you’ll also face people who will believe you pose a threat, and fear always leads to intolerance and hate.” He lets out a soft sigh, looking tired and worn in a way she hadn’t thought possible. He always seems so strong, so sure, that the weariness to his shoulders frightens her. “I want you to be safe, Kara. And as long as you stay away from Luthor, the safest place for you right now is Hogwarts.”

“My name is Kara Danvers,” she recites with a nod, determined to be strong—if only for Clark’s sake, to protect him the way her mother had instructed, lift some of that weight off his back. “I’m Alex’s adopted sister. I’m an exchange student from Ilvermorny. I am not from Krypton, I have no powers, and I’m staying away from Luthor.”

“What House will you choose when the Sorting Hat asks?” Clark asks, getting to his feet without meeting her eyes, making her wonder what he’s trying to hide behind his falsely cheery segue.

“Hufflepuff,” she says decisively, taking his hand and dragging him towards the Entrance Hall.

“Not Gryffindor like me?” he asks in mock affront. Kara doesn’t do much but laugh and shake her head in response.

( _Not Gryffindor_ , she doesn’t say, _because I don’t think I’m brave like you_.)

 

x

 

She isn’t allowed a Sorting ceremony. It would be too conspicuous to allow her to put on the Hat with the first years, especially considering she’s not eleven and though she’s supposedly Alex’s little sister, she’s never been mentioned before.

(Professor Henshaw, a severe looking man who eyes Kara a little too knowingly, had claimed that it would be dangerous putting the spotlight on her like that. He claimed it’d be simpler to just place the Sorting Hat on her head in Headmistress Grant’s office, join her Housemates in the Great Hall as the students shuffled in, and pretend as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“You _must_ fit in, Miss Danvers,” he had said, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder and making her wince with the use of a name that isn’t actually hers. “Alex will be around to help you, but until you understand how things work around here, invisibility is your best option.” He had seemed serious and knowing, so Kara had agreed, trying to pretend she didn’t see Clark nodding along from behind Professor Henshaw, a dark expression on his face, a sad gleam to his eyes.)

What she gets in place of a Sorting ceremony is a seat across from Cat Grant’s desk, squirming under the intensity of her gaze.

(Clark had whispered, just low enough so that no one else could hear, about Professor Grant’s worldwide renown, how she had singlehandedly revolutionized education at Hogwarts—how she was considered one of the greatest headmasters Hogwarts had ever seen, second perhaps only to Minerva McGonagall. Kara pretended that all that made complete sense to her.)

Cat Grant is small, but her stare is hard and intimidating, making her seem more ferocious than any Daxamite Kara had grown up hearing horror stories about. Yet, despite how large she looms in mere presence, there’s a certain softness to Professor Grant, a tinge of fondness and affection in her eyes and motions. She stands from her seat as Kara sits down, her palms pressed firmly against her desk, eyes never wavering from Kara’s.

“You’re Kara Danvers, I presume,” she says, her voice warmer than what Kara had imagined, something soft in the vibration against her vocal cords as she speaks. (Kara wonders if that is something she will have to get used to, something she will have to actively block out, just like all the other sounds that continually threaten to overwhelm her.)

“Yes, Professor,” Clark offers, silenced when Professor Grant holds up a single hand, not even bothering to look his way.

“She’s thirteen, not three, Mr. Kent. She can speak for herself.” A pause follows her words, stretching just a tad too long before Kara realizes she’s meant to speak up now.

“Right. Yes. I’m Kara Zo—Danvers.”

Professor Grant lets out a less than pleased hum, looking close to rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how things were at Ilvermorny, Keira,” she says, stepping out from behind her desk and circling over to Kara, hands clasped behind her back. Kara opens her mouth to correct the use of her name, remaining silent when she catches the subtle shake of Clark’s head. “Quite frankly, I don’t _care_ about Ilvermorny. It’s not even a footnote in the novel that is Hogwarts—in fact, I’d say Ilvermorny is a messy attempt at a sequel that was never necessary in the first place.” Kara swallows, unsure how to take in that information, choosing instead to focus on Clark’s vaguely amused expression. “I just want you to be aware that Hogwarts is different—Hogwarts _demands_ excellence. If you’re not here to be the very best you can be, you might as well turn around and leave the same way you came.” She stops, bends so that she’s eye-level with Kara, and purses her lips. “Do we understand each other?”

“I think so.”

“ _Think so_? No, no, no, Keira. That’s not enough. Are you prepared to push your talents to the very edge, to excel in the things you love, to show the world who you are?”

“What if I don’t know who I am?” Kara asks, not daring to look either at Professor Grant or Clark. After a short pause, she hears a laugh from her right, watches in astonishment as the Headmistress heads towards the opposite side of the expansive office, avoiding tables covered with frail-looking golden contraptions, before lifting a disgusting looking hat from off one of the bookshelves.

“This,” Professor Grant says as she dusts the hat off with a grimace, “is the Sorting Hat. It’s not much,” she continues, looking as if she’s reading Kara’s mind, “but even if you don’t know who you are, it will.” She steps back over to Kara, tossing her the hat rather carelessly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well go on, put it on.”

“Oh right, sorry.”

With shaky hands, Kara places the dingy hat on her head, shocked when it seems to come to life, swiveling her head about, tightening and loosening as if it’s trying to squeeze knowledge from out of her brain.

“Curious,” she hears a deep voice say, startled to realize it was the _hat_. (Clark and Professor Henshaw had explained there was a hat during the Sorting ceremony. She hadn’t known the hat was _alive._ ) “Very curious.”

“Get on with it,” Professor Grant mutters, clearly annoyed. “I haven’t got all day.”

“I see,” the hat says, though what it is that it sees, Kara doesn’t know. She wonders if it has eyes. “But where to put you?”

“Hufflepuff,” Kara says, not realizing she’s spoken aloud until she hears Professor Grant’s snort and Clark’s sigh. “I like Hufflepuff,” she adds in a whisper.

(She doesn’t say that in the short time she’s spent with the Danvers, Alex has regaled her with stories about the four houses, telling her about the brave Gryffindors, the clever Ravenclaws, the ambitious Slytherins, and the happy Hufflepuffs. She doesn’t say that she doesn’t feel very brave or clever or ambitious, but that even a chance at happiness is too tempting to ignore.

She doesn’t say that she’s not looking to be excellent, she’s just looking to not feel so alone.)

“Well, if you’re sure…” The hat swivels her head once more, as if still trying to get something to shake out, then flops loosely against her skull. “Better be—”

“Oh hush, no need to yell here,” Professor Grant admonishes, swiping the hat off Kara’s head. “We get it, she’s a Hufflepuff.” She tosses the hat onto her desk and stares down at Kara, looking unimpressed even as a faint hint of amusement lined her features. “How strange. The hat rarely speaks aloud when it’s contemplating a student’s future. I think the only exception I’ve ever seen is Mr. Kent here.” She turns to him, raising an eyebrow.

“You were always looking for a story, Cat,” Clark says, shuffling forward and pulling Kara to her feet. “I promised Jeremiah I’d see Kara off, I’d like to say goodbye before I head out. If that’s all right with you, of course, Headmistress.”

“Curious,” Professor Grant says in response, smiling and crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s always a pleasure, Clark. Tell Lois I said hello, will you. Actually, maybe I should send her an owl soon.”

“She’ll be thrilled to hear from you.”

“I’m sure.” She smiles again, this one looking positively _knowing_ and it sends shivers down Kara’s spine. “Be sure to arrive at the Great Hall with the other students, Keira. Your less than traditional admittance to Hogwarts will not be an excuse for tardiness.”

Kara nods shakily, not daring to turn her back to Professor Grant as she backs out of the office, Clark seemingly torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to run in order to escape Cat Grant’s gaze quicker.

(She says her farewells to her cousin back at the Entrance Hall, hugging him as tightly as she can, reveling in the short moment that she doesn’t have to think about accidentally hurting someone or breaking something.

Clark promises to write—an owl a day, _at least_ —but Kara’s so busy trying to memorize his soft voice that she can’t find it in herself to even respond.)

 

x

 

“Kara, are you okay?”

(She should’ve known Alex would notice—tasked by her father to watch over Kara, instructed to make sure that Kara had someone to protect her while at Hogwarts. She doesn’t know Alex very well yet, but she knows enough to feel embarrassed that she thought she could escape the Great Hall unimpeded and unscathed.)

“I’m fine. Great, actually. Perfect.” She runs out of adjectives, her poor English getting in the way of her babbling.

“You ran out of there pretty quick, Kara. Are you sure you’re okay?” Alex looks different in her robes, the blue and silver prefect badge on her chest gleaming somehow despite the low light of the corridor. Students shuffle past them, not apologizing or pausing as they ram their shoulders into one another in their haste to make it up to their common rooms.

(It’s so _loud._ )

She doesn’t realize she’s said those three words aloud until she feels Alex grab her by the elbow and drag her in the opposite direction as the mass of students, shoving her into the first empty classroom they come across.

“Kara, focus on my voice okay?” Alex murmurs, taking hold of Kara’s hands, squeezing them. (She must be holding on as tightly as she can because Kara thinks she almost can feel the pressure, thinks there might be a twinge of discomfort at the tightness—that it’s not all wishful thinking.) “Just focus on me and my voice. Let everything else fade. The only sound is me.”

(She’s wrong. There’s the crying somewhere in the dungeons, the sound of pens against paper as students frantically wrote to their parents about their first night, there’s laughter and chatter and shouting, there’s stone screeching against stone, a knight named Cadogan challenging everyone he sees to a duel, there’s the howling of the ghosts and the snickering of Peeves, and it’s _loud_.)

“Kara. Me, focus just on _me_.”

(There’s the sound of Alex’s heavy breathing, the even and steady thump of her heart, the slight rustle of her robes as she shifts her position, the tap of her finger against her wand, the slight waver to her voice….

Kara’s eyelids flutter shut and she focuses on Alex—on her voice, on her heart, on her breathing—and everything else begins to die away, the pain and the brightness and the _excess_ finally begins to fade and it feels as if she can breathe again.)

“There you go. Come on, Kara, take your hands off your ears, you’re going to be all right.”

“I don’t like it here. I want to go—” She stops herself, eyes opening in shock. It occurs to her, for the first time maybe, she has _nowhere_ else to go. There’s nothing to look forward to like the student crying in the dungeon, there’s no sense of escape like the siblings up in one of the towers. Because Kara…Kara has no home.

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” Alex says, cradling Kara’s cheeks and gently pushing Kara to meet her eyes. “You and I are in this together, okay? You have me. If you feel overwhelmed, just…just come to me. We can have a sister night. You know? I’ll let you into the Ravenclaw tower and we’ll do puzzles or read or I can help you study. What do you think, Kara?”

She nods quickly, allowing Alex to pull her closer, not quite forward enough to hug Alex back, but appreciating Alex’s strong arms anyway.

“Yes,” she mutters against her adoptive sister’s shoulder—a description that seemed _real_ for the first time. “Yes, that sounds good.”

 

x

 

She meets Lena Luthor in Potions and—for reasons far beyond her—she finds herself unable to look away.

Winn, the Ravenclaw who had been partnered up with Kara (an initiative started by Professor Grant back when she was still teaching, ensuring students interacted and learned from students of other houses), notices the staring after several minutes of going ignored as he explains the nuances of potion-making. He waits until the aging Professor Perry passes them by before he elbows Kara in the side.

“No,” he says. “Don’t even go there.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You’re staring at Lena Luthor, but you should leave her alone,” Winn warns, serious for the first time since she met him. He’s normally full of laughs and jokes, so Kara looks away from the back of Lena’s head—where she’s sitting, sans a partner, up at the front of the class, looking stiff and uncomfortable—and focuses on Winn instead.

“Why?” (She asks because Clark had never explained—he’d just given her instructions and left. She asks because she stares at the back of Lena’s head and she doesn’t see anything to mark her as different, the way Clark’s tone and words had seemed to suggest.)

“Because Lena is…” He wrings his hands, looking terribly uncomfortable suddenly. “Look, I like her. I do. She’s the smartest in our class, she’s nice, and she always shares her notes. But Lena doesn’t make friends, okay? She’s a _Luthor_.” He whispers that last part like it should mean something to Kara, and while she recognizes it from the things Clark had said, Kara doesn’t understand why it inspires so much…fear.

“Wait,” Kara murmurs after a moment, remembering the things Clark had quickly filled her in on in the few months between landing on Earth and being told she would be attending Hogwarts, “is she related to Lex—”

“ _Shh!_ ” Winn hisses, reaching out and clamping a hand over Kara’s mouth. She pulls him off, and winces a little when Winn rubs where she’d touched him, a pained expression on his face. “Whoa, okay. You don’t like being touched. I’m sorry.” He continues to rub his arm but a smile appears on his face. “You’re strong. Like, _really_ strong.”

“Is she?” Kara asks, ignoring Winn entirely. “Related to…” She trails off, unwilling to say the name and have Winn put his hand over her mouth again. He looks upset that the topic has been brought up again, and he follows Professor Perry’s movements over at Lena’s workstation with his eyes, sniffing a little when the Professor seems thrilled at whatever he sees in Lena’s cauldron.

“She’s his little sister,” Winn finally says with a sigh. “She’s nothing like him,” here he turns to Kara, as if wanting to drill that in, make sure she understood, “she’s nothing like him at all. But people talk. And everyone is scared—not of her,” he hastens to add at Kara’s confusion. “Of her brother. What he might do. I mean, after Lena was Sorted into Ravenclaw, he…” Winn stops, shrugs, and flips the page of their shared textbook. He clears his throat a little. “We should really work on our Sleeping Drought. Pass me the salamander skin, will you?”

Kara hasn’t been on Earth long, but she recognizes when a subject is effectively closed, so she nods and focuses on their work, only looking towards Lena—at her dark hair and pale skin—once more, wondering what it is that makes Lena Luthor so…interesting.

(It’s not until many days later, while she’s at breakfast with her fellow Hufflepuffs, waiting for an owl from Clark she no longer thinks is coming, that she realizes what it is that so drew her to Lena: the stiffness of her shoulders—the hardness of her back—is the same thing Kara sees every time she passes by a mirror.)

 

x

 

In her second week at Hogwarts, one of the seventh years in her house shows her how to enter the kitchens, grinning at the rumbling of her stomach as he tickles the pear in the large portrait. Adam doesn’t stay long, patting her on the shoulder as he reminds her to be polite to the house elves, seemingly terribly amused by her wide eyes and gaping mouth.

By her third week at Hogwarts, her friends—which consists of Winn from her own year, James and Lucy from a year ahead of her, and of course Alex—know that should they ever need her, looking in the kitchens or the library is a safe bet.

(She likes the bustling of the kitchens, the kindness of the house elves, the food they press into her hands, seemingly thrilled by how much she enjoys what they give her. And she likes the quiet of the library, the dust and age, the way shutting things out and working on that persistent headache that builds throughout the day becomes easier in the solitude and solemnness between the bookshelves.

And if she likes the library because Lena spends an inordinate amount of time there too…well, no one really needs to know.)

She’s at Hogwarts for nearly a month—somehow managing to keep up with her studies, finally able to cast a spell with her wand for the first time, meaning that Clark was right and her Kryptonian cells _had_ absorbed the magic in the air—when she runs into Lena at the library, still high off her success with the simple charm she’d managed, Clark’s instructions and Winn’s advice to leave Lena Luthor alone completely slipping from her mind.

“Hello!” Kara says cheerfully, slipping into the chair across from Lena, dropping her books messily onto the table and propping up her elbows on the wood. Lena looks up slowly, blinks owlishly, then frowns.

“Hello?”

(Kara’s too excited to notice that Lena’s response isn’t much of a response at all. She’s also too engrossed in the color of Lena’s eyes, debating whether they’re blue or if it’s just Lena’s Ravenclaw tie that makes it seem that way, to worry about the confusion on Lena’s face.)

“Remember last week in Charms, when you pointed out that it’s easier to cast Cheering Charms if you eliminate the twist and only flick?” Kara continues, watching as Lena’s eyebrows begin to rise. “I used it today, and it _worked_. Nothing’s worked for me. But I cast the Cheering Charm today and it’s all thanks to _you_.”

“Oh. You’re the exchange student from Ilvermorny,” she says, comprehension flooding her features. “Kara, right?” When Kara nods with a wide smile, Lena’s shoulders seem to relax a little, her grip on her pen finally loosening. “I don’t understand though. You haven’t been able to cast spells? Do they do magic differently at Ilvermorny?”

(Kara doesn’t know. Clark hasn’t told her anything about Ilvermorny.

She doesn’t think she can be blamed for the next words out of her mouth—it’s entirely Clark and Alex’s fault for not preparing her better.)

“I hadn’t come into my magic yet.”

“You…” Lena trails off, her brows furrowing in confusion, eyes narrowing somewhat as she takes Kara in. She must decide she doesn’t much care for Kara’s odd comment, because she moves on rather gracefully. “I guess I’m flattered that you paid attention to what I said in class, then,” she says, actually shutting the book she’s reading and leaning forward on the table, “but most people just call me a know-it-all.”

“No, it’s great!” Kara hastens to assure her, grin wide. “My family back on—” She stops, blushes, ducks her head, and then adjusts her glasses as she avoids Lena’s gaze. “I mean, my adoptive family, the Danvers, they’re very proud that Alex is a Ravenclaw. That she’s so smart.”

“Oh, I hadn’t—I didn’t realize you were adopted.” Something passes over Lena’s face, her expression becoming open for the first time as she gestures awkwardly to the books that Kara’s dropped onto the table. “Those are great books for beginners,” she says, swallowing and letting her hand fall almost listlessly by her side. “But if you ever needed more help…I could, you know. Help.”

“That would be amazing! Yes, I’ll absolutely take you up on that. We can even study in the kitchens!”

“In the kitchens?”

“You should see it, Lena. It’s practically a _dream_.”

Lena’s eyes are wide—seemingly shocked for some reason—but she smiles for the first time since Kara accosted her at the library table widely known to be _Lena’s_ , and that single smile is more than enough for Kara to decide that she can add Lena to her list of friends.

 

x

 

“What do you mean you don’t want to go?” Alex asks in exasperation. “ _Everyone_ goes. Even Luthor.”

“Don’t call her that,” Kara says tiredly, having gone through this exact same conversation every day since the notice for the first Hogsmeade trip of the year was put up. While Winn was excitedly planning his trip to Zonko’s, enthusiasm uncurbed by James and Lucy’s warnings that it wouldn’t meet all his expectations, Kara was looking forward to a Saturday of _silence_. With most of the students heading towards the village, the castle would be blessedly quiet—a chance for Kara to relax and not have to worry about blocking everyone out all the time. “I just…want to be alone. For a while.”

Alex must notice something, because guilt floods her features, and she reaches out and squeezes Kara’s hand. They’re sitting on the comfortable couches in front of the fire, the ones that the seventh and sixth years always monopolize. She’s glad that the common room is empty for once, the other Hufflepuffs having gone to bed early out of excitement for the next day. “Okay,” Alex says after a moment, eyes still searching Kara—just a tad uncomfortably. “If that’s what you want. But you can’t stop me from bringing you bags worth of Honeydukes.”

“You’d _better_ bring me chocolate, Alex. It’s the best part of this planet.”

“Really, chocolate is the best part?”

“You’re a close second,” Kara jokes, allowing Alex to shove her, even pretending the action hurts. After she straightens, she thinks her heart might stop when Alex leans into her, even going so far as to rest her head on Kara’s shoulder.

(The action is so…familiar, familial. It makes Kara’s heart ache with want and need and an ever-present sadness that even the majesty and magic of Hogwarts hadn’t been able to eradicate.

The action brings tears to Kara’s eyes because for the first time since landing on this planet, she feels as if there’s hope for her to find a home yet.)

“There’s a secret passage that leads straight to the Honeydukes cellar,” Alex says, eyes on the fire and oblivious to Kara’s sudden rush of emotion (Alex, after all, couldn’t hear the change in Kara’s heart rate, hear the hitch in her breathing). “You and I could sneak into Hogsmeade another weekend, when it’s less crowded. You might enjoy it then.”

“What would Jeremiah and Eliza say if they heard you planning to sneak out of Hogwarts?”

“Well, Dad would probably help. But you’re right, we should keep it from Mom. She wouldn’t understand.”

“Did you see the papers?” Kara asks in a whisper, closing her eyes. In response, Alex shifts closer to Kara, squeezing her hand once more, though this time she doesn’t release it.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you, Kara. Clark and Dad will stop Lex.”

“But all those innocent people—they’re like _me_. They were scared, they weren’t hurting anyone. I just don’t understand.”

“The pureblood families can’t go after muggleborns anymore so they’re focusing on aliens. They’re just trying to stay relevant, Kara. Don’t listen to what anyone says, you belong here just as much as anyone else—and Lex Luthor can’t touch you here.”

Kara nods in response, and for the first time, she leans into the comfort and touch and warmth so freely offered, wishing she didn’t feel so _helpless_.

(Wishing that she was the one doing the protecting, not the other way around.)

 

x

 

Professor Henshaw catches her wandering the corridors the next afternoon, and without giving her the chance to decline (not really wanting to spend more time with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor than strictly necessary, afraid of him despite Clark’s trust in him), he asks her to take a walk around the grounds with her, the two of them ending up by the lake, where they sit on the ground and watch a few first years attempt to frustrate the giant squid into rising from the water.

“Your other professors tell me your studies are going well, Miss Danvers,” Henshaw says, voice a deep rumble, eyes on the first years and a disapproving scowl on his lips. “Even if your magic still needs work.” He looks contemplative for a moment before allowing himself a grin. “Though considering you didn’t have magic before you came here, I think you’re doing wonderfully.”

“Thank you,” Kara manages, leaning back on her hands, staring up at the sky. Henshaw must follow her gaze, because after a short silence, he lets out a soft sigh.

“You spend a lot of time in the astronomy tower,” he says, and though he waits for a response, it’s clearly not a question.

“I do.”

“Have you found what you’re looking for yet?”

(She wonders how he knows—wonders how he could possibly know. Is it written on her face, are the words somehow slipping past a tongue and lips unused to the twist and harshness of the new language she’s told to use exclusively?

How can Professor Hank Henshaw know that she stares up at the sky, wondering if the light from Krypton’s destruction has finally reached Earth—that she might see a flicker from a distant star, a flicker and then just darkness? She wonders how he knows that at nights she stares up at the sky and hopes that she can find some tangible evidence that Krypton once existed—that even that last flash of light would be enough to settle the last shred of hope in her heart, the notion that something other than herself and the pod she arrived in survived Krypton’s destruction.

She wonders how he knows that she’s looking for something to finally force her to move on, that she’s hoping for a chance to say farewell to the only life she had ever known—a farewell she wasn’t allowed between the mere minutes her mother hugged her and sent her off, too quick to give Kara a chance to comprehend what was happening.)

“No. Not yet.”

“Sometimes, Miss Danvers,” Professor Henshaw begins slowly, tapping her on the shoulder and pointing towards the castle in the distance, where Kara can see Winn, James, and Lucy rushing towards her (laden with bags from Zonko’s and Honeydukes), a fairly amused Alex trailing more slowly behind them, so preoccupied by the sight of her friends that she doesn’t wonder how her professor had noticed or seen them in the first place, “it helps to look somewhere else. You might just find something you weren’t expecting.”

 

x

 

In the weeks leading up to their Christmas holidays, the number of attacks against known aliens increases, as does the number of confrontations between Lex Luthor and Superman. The _Daily Prophet_ is filled with articles about the anti-alien sentiment flooding the wizarding community, even the Minister of Magic weighing in on the matter by suggesting an alien registry that would ensure they received the same rights and privileges as any other magical person—though there’s an undercurrent of fear, a belief that the registry would prevent aliens aware of the magical world from exposing magic to the muggles. As for the muggles themselves, they have similar issues, most of them in love with Superman but suspicious of aliens that look and act different. _Their_ notion of a registry is more about keeping tabs on those they didn’t quite trust.

And through it all, Kara pretends she’s human.

It’s become easier as time has worn on: She eats normal portions at meals and sneaks off to the kitchens later to deal with her much higher than normal metabolism. She doesn’t leave the castle at night to fly around in the Forbidden Forest, not quite keen to be subjected to Henshaw’s ire once again. She manages to drown out the extraneous nose by focusing on one or two things at a time, the headaches of her first few weeks at Hogwarts a thing of the past. She learns exactly how much strength she can use on doors and pens and people, always holding herself back, always vigilant lest she break something—or much worse, hurt someone. English comes easily to her, magic even more so now that her cells have had time to absorb it from the air. And while she slips up often, mentioning things about Kryptonian life or culture, she finds blaming it on Ilvermorny is a valid excuse—it astonishes her how little the magical world seemed to know about those like them in other places.

Yet, when Christmas arrives, she realizes just how much she doesn’t know about humans or Earth.

The castle is transformed, trees and lights everywhere, the suits of armor singing things called carols whenever she passes by. She doesn’t quite understand why Winn claims she has to look under her tree for presents, doesn’t understand how those presents end up under the tree in the first place, but she’s glad he chalks up her confusion and ignorance to teasing, and spends most of their first day on holiday attempting to explain everything to her.

(It doesn’t quite work out; the snow blanketing the grounds, the frozen over lake, holds much of Kara’s attention, leaving her unable to remember what Winn had said about wizard crackers until she experiences it for herself later that afternoon with Lucy and Alex laughing at the look of shock on her face.

In payback, Kara forces them to spend hours each day in the snow, unable to get over its novelty, not feeling the cold that Alex reminds her she’s supposed to complain about, not even minding when Winn bewitches several snowballs to follow her around until they ram into her, leaving her soaked and laughing.)

By the time Christmas Eve rolls around, Kara has almost forgotten that Clark hasn’t written despite promising her he would, that Jeremiah and Eliza had asked Kara and Alex to remain at Hogwarts during the holidays because of Lex Luthor’s threats, that it’s been several days since she’s snuck up to the astronomy tower and stared at the sky until the weight tugging at her heart felt a little lighter. In fact, Kara feels… _nice_. She’s not happy, she doesn’t think she ever can be when half of her is still aching for something that no longer exists, but she thinks that Henshaw was right—that her friends and Alex are more worthy of her attention and preoccupation. After all, Krypton is gone, but her friends are here now.

On Christmas morning, however, when she listens to Lucy talk about her family, when James talks about traditions his family has, when Alex’s eyes light up as she describes a Christmas from several years previously, Kara feels like she’s crashed back to the ground, and she excuses herself, wandering the castles corridors on her own before ending up in the library.

And to her utter shock, Lena’s at her normal table, deep in the back, near the windows, head buried in a book.

She’s not shocked or confused when Kara sits across from her, she just offers Kara a small smile, bends over and digs through her bag for a moment before pulling out a second book and pushing it towards Kara.

“You look sad,” she says by way of explanation. Kara opens the book, flipping one page back and forth idly, eyes not leaving Lena’s. “I read when I’m sad.”

“You read a lot.”

“Yes.”

(It’s said so simply, so surely, and it makes Kara’s heart ache.)

“I thought you would go home for Christmas.”

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t know who I am, Kara,” Lena says, her smile gone, but her eyes still soft. “I’d really rather not go to a home surrounded by reporters, wanting to know about my brother. And besides, I’m not exactly welcome anyway. Not after this.” She gestures towards the blue and sliver crest on her robes.

“Do you want to know what I do when I’m sad?”

“I’m not going to the kitchens again, Kara. As much as I enjoy spending time with you, I think if I try to eat that much again I might actually get sick.”

“No, not the kitchens. Do you trust me?”

Lena blinks, staring at Kara like she’s never quite seen her before, but then she nods.

“Yes.”

(It’s said so simply, so surely, but this time, it makes Kara’s heart race.)

Slowly, Kara helps Lena gather her things, lifting her bag for her before leading her out of the library by the hand, not releasing her until they’re up on the astronomy tower. Kara drops Lena’s bag onto the ground, then lies on her back, staring up at the sky. It takes a moment, but Lena joins her, not even commenting on the cold, hard stone or the dust that must cover their robes now.

“So you come here when you’re sad,” Lena says after a moment, her voice breaking the silence and pulling Kara out of thoughts that were quickly becoming dark. “Do you spend a lot of time here?”

Kara doesn’t even think to lie, doesn’t even imagine that Lena might ask her to elaborate, doesn’t even wonder if Lena’s curious about what makes this one spot—staring up at the sky—a place of comfort for her. All she does is answer simply and surely, much like Lena.

“Yes.”

Lena doesn’t respond with words—she merely reaches out and takes Kara’s hand and somehow, it’s enough.

 

x

 

Alex and several of her classmates are huddled around one of the trees, passing around notes and complaining about the OWLs, while Kara sits with James, Winn, and Lucy, grinning as her three friends debate the latest Quidditch game. (Kara doesn’t quite see the appeal of Quidditch, she can fly better on her own than with any clunky, slow, and uncoordinated broom. But she enjoys listening to Winn’s passion, James’s incredulity, and Lucy’s smugness when they talk about their favorite teams.) She’s about to ask why James is a Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team if his favorite player is a Seeker when she notices her friends’ slack faces, smiles and excitement dying as they look somewhere behind Kara. When Kara turns, it’s to see Lena standing there, books pressed tightly to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“Kara,” she says with a nod, looking anxiously at James, Winn, and Lucy. “You asked me to meet you here?” Kara isn’t sure why Lena phrases it as a question, or why she seems so betrayed, but she scrambles to her feet and takes Lena’s books from her, grinning widely.

“I’m so glad you came!” She drops the books, blushing slightly when Lena raises her eyebrows at the action, and turns back to the others. “Guys, you all know Lena. Lena, this is James, Winn, and Lucy.”

“She’s my _housemate_ ,” Winn says, huffing. “Of course I know my own housemate, Kara. What do you take me for?” For whatever reason, Winn’s joke has Lena’s shoulders relaxing, Lucy’s subsequent laugh making Lena smile a little.

“I think Kara is trying to say you don’t pay attention to your surroundings, Schott. Just like the Chasers with your precious Chudley Cannons.”

“Do I knock the Harpies, Lane? No, I don’t. So leave the Cannons alone,” Winn says, crossing his arms and looking terribly offended. James laughs at his girlfriend and self-described best friend, teasing them about neither of their teams having won the League in some time—unlike the “ _great_ Puddlemere United” he comments—and Kara looks back at Lena, smiling as she motions for her to sit down.

Lena is unsure for only a moment. The second the argument about Puddlemere United dies off, Lucy asks about Arithmancy, and Lena launches into a lecture, hands excitedly waving in the air as she and Winn begin to debate the finer points of the class. It goes over Kara’s head, having chosen Care of Magical Creatures over Arithmancy, but Lena’s eyes are bright, so Kara finds she doesn’t quite care.

(Much later, Winn comes over to the Hufflepuff table during dinner, and he punches Kara lightly on the shoulder. “I was wrong,” he says before rushing back. Kara’s eyes follow him, and she can’t help but grin widely when she sees him sitting with Lena at the end of the table—where she used to sit alone.)

 

x

 

She gets her first letter from Clark in April, after several weeks of what felt like non-stop rain. Merely getting up in the morning felt like a chore, but she’d promised Lena and Winn she’d study with them in the library after a quick breakfast.

(In her first few weeks, she couldn’t help but look up every single morning, hoping to see an owl head towards her, hoping to see something from her cousin, instead of just reading Jeremiah and Eliza’s letters after Alex had skimmed through them. But while Jeremiah and Eliza wrote consistently at least once a week to the two Danvers sisters, it was as if Clark had slipped off the face of the planet—even if Superman hadn’t.

And after two months, Kara had stopped looking up.)

She thinks she’s understandably shocked when the owl drops the letter into her orange juice, frowning at the animal until one of her housemates takes pity on her and feeds the owl some bacon before letting it fly away.

The letter is short.

(He tells her he’s proud of her.

He tells her that he wanted her to have a life like his, one without fear or worry.

He tells her that he wished they could have spent more time together.)

(Kara wonders why it sounds a little bit like a goodbye.)

It’s still early, the castle is dreary thanks to the rain, and Kara finds herself mindlessly heading up to the library, seeking out an alcove by one of the windows, thinking she’d just sit there and wait until Winn and Lena showed up. She’s not quite sure when she pulls her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She’s not quite sure when Lena arrives, sitting down across from her and mimicking her position.

“I thought he’d be here for me,” Kara says without thinking and she hears Lena let out a mirthless laugh. The Ravenclaw shifts until they’re shoulder to shoulder, pressed so close to Kara that her warmth seeps into Kara’s skin despite the rain outside and the dreariness and chill of the castle, despite the frigidness that’s taken hold of Kara from within. Lena doesn’t ask what Kara means, she doesn’t even look confused. She just leans her head on Kara’s shoulder.

(It feels different from when Alex did it. With Alex, it made Kara think of her mother and father, it made her think of home and safety. With Lena, it makes her heart beat different, makes her feel warm and wanted—needed.)

“Lex was my best friend,” Lena says in a whisper, as if afraid someone might hear her, this terrible, dark secret. “When I was younger, he used to read me stories. Not just of the three brothers, but stories about Hogwarts, about everything he saw here, about how much he wanted to change.” She stops, reaches out and grips Kara’s hand hesitantly, letting out a tiny puff of air when Kara’s squeezes tightly and doesn’t let her let go. “When he left Hogwarts, he changed. He stopped visiting. Not even when I got my letter. And then I hear he’s the new Voldemort—the _Prophet_ has stories about his insanity every other day.” She heaves a breath, turning her head slightly to meet Kara’s eyes. “He was my best friend, Kara. He was always there and then…he wasn’t.”

“Do you hate Superman?” Kara asks quietly, not really wanting to hear the response, not really wanting to know.

“Yes. But not because he’s an alien or because he’s fighting Lex.” Lena pulls away, leaving Kara feeling _empty_ and not really knowing why. “I hate Superman because he’s saved so many, but he didn’t save Lex.” Her features harden and she swallows hard. “But most of all, I hate Lex. Because I don’t think he _could_ be saved.”

“So you read a lot.”

“And you stare at the stars.”

“We’re some pair,” Kara mutters, surprised when the comment makes Lena laugh and lean her head back on Kara’s shoulder.

“Would you feel better if I agreed to a snack break after we get through our History of Magic notes?”

“Ugh, how do you not fall asleep in that class?” Kara asks, laughing as well. “Do you promise you won’t complain when Winn and I eat éclairs?”

“I have to complain, Kara. It’s gross. You really shouldn’t eat so many.”

“You’re taking all the fun out of a snack break, Lena.”

“Stop complaining. We have pages and pages of notes to get through.”

Kara pretends to put up a fight, but she allows Lena to tug her to her feet, dragging her to what Lena had affectionately called _their_ table, where Winn is already waiting. Neither of them mention Kara’s tears or Lena’s confession again, but Kara feels… _lighter_ …and she’s rather sure Lena’s smile comes more easily, fading less quickly, than it did before. And though she’s been at Hogwarts for nearly an entire school year—though she owns a wand and can cast spells and charms, though a talking hat Sorted her into her house, though she’s watched James fly around on a broom for an insane sport, though she’s spent so much time with moving paintings and incredible creatures—it’s only at this moment, when she catches sight of Lena Luthor’s smile, that everything finally feels magical.

And if that makes Hogwarts feel a little bit like a home…well, no one needs to know it’s thanks to Lena.


	2. Chapter 2

When Kara finally manages to locate Lena, she’s sitting in one of the compartments towards the back of the train, all alone, knees pulled up to her chest and head leaning against the window, pillowed by an ugly sweater Kara recognizes as the one Clark had bought for Kara when they celebrated Christmas the previous year with the Danvers. Lena’s glasses—which she rarely wears, filling Kara with an odd sense of fondness and affection as she stares at her best friend—are askew, eyes closed, light snores escaping past her lips.

(Not that Kara is staring at Lena’s lips.)

“She’s asleep? Already?” Winn asks over Kara’s shoulder, incredulity coloring his tone. He steps forward, huffing when Kara doesn’t move out of the way to allow the others into the compartment. “Kara, everywhere else is full. You can’t expect us to just hang out in the corridor for the trolley to come trample us.”

“But—”

“No, Kara,” Lucy says firmly, coming up on Kara’s other side, resting her chin on Kara’s shoulder. “You can’t keep us out of the compartment just because you want Lena to sleep.”

“You have to be quiet,” Kara tells them firmly, turning her head to look at Winn and then at Lucy, not bothering to turn around and glare at James—of all her friends, he tended to be the most level-headed. “If she wakes up, I’ll make sure your Quidditch games are _miserable_.”

“I still can’t believe Professor Grant let you become the announcer, of all the terrible decisions in the world,” Lucy starts, making Winn and Kara roll their eyes simultaneously, familiar with this particular rant.

“Yes, we know, it’s the most terrible, a clear sign that Professor Grant is unfairly biased towards perfect _prefect_ Kara Danvers, the pride and joy of Hufflepuff house,” Winn finishes for Lucy, adding ‘prefect’ with a wink at the badge on Kara’s chest, pushing past Kara and settling down on the seat across from Lena. “We know, Lane. You’re jealous of Kara.”

“Jealous? I wouldn’t say _jealous_. Just upset that it took Cat Grant five years to learn my name and two years to basically adopt Kara as her own.”

“I thought Lois told you to hate Professor Grant, Luce,” James says, taking his girlfriend’s hand and pushing her into the compartment, avoiding Kara’s glare as he does so. In his defense, he’s quite careful not to let Lucy anywhere near Lena, and he manages to keep his voice down. “What’s with wanting her approval?”

“What Lois doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Lucy mutters, making James and Winn laugh and Kara huff, pointedly staring at Lena, who has shifted slightly in sleep. Just as Winn opens his mouth—to complain, to tease her, to point out that Lena’s glasses look like they’re about to fall off her face—the compartment door slides open forcefully and Alex barges in, huffing angrily.

“Of all the nerve!” she cries, met with a chorus of “ _shh!_ ” from a wide-eyed Winn, a panicked James, an amused Lucy, and an irate Kara. “What?” Alex demands, looking from her sister to the others, confusion on her face until she catches sight of Lena. “Oh shit, did I wake her up?” Lena’s eyes remain closed, her breathing still even and soft, and Kara heaves a sigh of relief. She holds up a finger for her sister to wait, then turns to Lena, gently taking off her glasses and setting them aside, then motioning for Alex to sit down between Winn and Lucy, ignoring the tight space and Alex’s incredulity at the empty space Kara has left on the seat almost entirely taken up by Lena. “Kara,” Alex begins heatedly, though her voice is much softer, “you can’t force us all in one seat just because you want Lena to sleep.”

“Already tried pointing that out,” Lucy says cheerfully. “Kara just threatened me with bad Quidditch commentating.” She winks at Kara to show that she’s just teasing, but Alex blinks rapidly, as if unsure whether or not she should take the situation seriously.

“What happened, Alex?” Kara asks, hoping it’ll be enough of a distraction that her sister won’t comment on Kara’s need to make sure Lena’s comfortable. “Who has nerve?”

“ _Maggie_ ,” Alex hisses, properly distracted. “Apparently, being Head Girl does not mean I can tell prefects what to do, except that’s _exactly_ what that means, since as Head Girl I’m in _charge_ of the prefects.” Here she looks at Kara pointedly, raising one eyebrow until Kara breaks eye contact and stares determinedly out the window, pretending to be fascinated by the blur of green.

“No offense, Danvers,” Lucy says slowly, “but I’m so glad I’m not a prefect. I do not do well with being told what to do.”

“Clearly,” Kara says, pointing towards Lena, who mumbles under her breath at Lucy’s raised voice. “If she wakes up, you’ll wish you never became Quidditch captain.”

“Threatening me, Kara?” Lucy asks with a grin. “Careful, you might lose your midnight snack buddy.”

“Wait, you two sneak out of your dormitories after curfew?” Alex asks incredulously, mouth falling wide open. “Kara _, seriously_?”

“What? It’s not like I was a prefect then. And no one ever caught us.”

“That’s not the point and you—”

“—we can keep talking about Maggie, let’s keep talking about Maggie—”

“—oh no you don’t, Kara,” Lucy cuts in, arms crossed over her chest, “I personally would _love_ to hear Alex’s point, I feel properly chastised.”

“—sneaking out after hours is against the rules, Kara,” Alex continues, ignoring Lucy and Kara entirely, not even noticing Winn’s muffled laughter and James’s amusement, “and you should know better. What if you’d been seen, if you’d been caught, it’s like you don’t listen to anything Professor Henshaw says, I just—” She suddenly clamps her mouth shut, eyes wide.

And Kara realizes Alex is less upset about the breaking of the rules and more upset over the fact that her alien sister was wandering the corridors of Hogwarts with friends in the middle of the night—during a time when it’s dangerous to even be associated with an alien, let alone _be_ an alien.

“In my defense, James was the one who came up with the midnight snack idea,” Kara says, attempting to make light of the whole thing, make her sister smile. But instead, Alex’s eyes widen, James looks away, Lucy seems terribly interested in her fingernails, and Winn produces a book from nowhere, burying his head into it. Kara’s just about to ask what the hell was wrong with all of them—though perhaps not in those words—when she hears shifting from behind her.

“Why are you so _loud_ , Kara?” Lena asks, and when Kara turns, Lena’s sitting up, rubbing her eyes. “You know I think napping is a vital—”

Kara doesn’t let her finish; without warning, she rushes forward and pulls her best friend in a tight hug (careful to make sure it’s not _too_ tight, though controlling her powers is practically as easy as taking a breath, as falling asleep, as smiling when she sees her friends).

“Oh _sure_ ,” Lucy says as Lena laughs and hugs Kara back. “We’re threatened and shushed, but Lena gets a hug. Kara’s almost as unfair as Professor Grant.”

The others laugh, but Kara doesn’t really care about any of it because she can feel Lena’s breath against her ear as she says, “Hi. I missed you, too.”

 

x

 

“I think Alex wouldn’t be happy to know we’re taking advantage of patrols to spend time up here,” Lena says, though she makes no move to get up. Her eyes remain fixed on the night sky, her hands folded over her stomach, one finger tapping incessantly against the back of her other hand. Kara snorts, shifting over enough so that her shoulder is pressed against Lena’s.

“I think she’ll be happy to know we’re no longer sneaking up here. Technically, the astronomy tower is part of patrols, so we’re doing our job.”

“No one’s up here. And we still have to check the sixth floor and—”

“—we have time.”

“You’re a terrible influence. I can’t believe I always fall for your bad ideas.”

“Bad or great?” Kara says with a laugh, keeping her eyes on Lena, waiting for her to turn her head. She does so after a moment, and though her lips are pulled down in a frown, her eyes are bright—practically stars of their own.

(It does funny things to Kara’s heart. Things she doesn’t quite understand. It’s not the same warmth she feels with Alex or the solidity she feels with James and Lucy. It’s a flutter, an indication of more, a tantalizing promise that sends a shudder down Kara’s spine, tingling at her very fingertips—more feeling in just a look than she’s gotten from anything else since landing on this planet with a yellow sun.

She doesn’t understand it. But she _likes_ it.)

“We should get back,” Lena says as she sits up, ignoring Kara’s groan and tugging on her hand, pulling her up as well. “I hear the Head Girl this year is a stickler for the rules. And we still have two floors to patrol.”

“Fine,” Kara grumbles, dusting off her robes. “But I’m not happy about this. Not happy at all.”

“Noted,” Lena laughs, though when she takes Kara’s hand and leads her down the steps, Kara loses her train of thought, focused instead on Lena’s grip, on that fluttering feeling that she doesn’t understand.

It’s more to distract herself than anything that Kara finds herself speaking.

“How was your summer?” she asks, wincing internally as soon as the words escape her. Of all the things to ask, she had to ask about Lena’s summer—something she _knows_ will make Lena clam up, especially after Lex’s most recent clash with Superman.

Lena stops, ignoring one of the portraits mumbling about prefects not patrolling as they should these days—“Worse than that Potter boy and his silly friends, I swear!”—and gives Kara a searching look.

“It was…uneventful,” she says after a long moment—awkward and haltingly and more than a little reluctant. “I spent all my time looking forward to your letters. And coming back to Hogwarts.”

“I saw the story in the _Prophet_ ,” Kara admits in a low voice. “The pictures and the hounding and the rudeness.” She watches as Lena’s eyes grow guarded, as they seem to shutter off and dim, and she realizes that regardless of what she’d read in the paper, the reality had been hundreds of times worse. “You deserve better, Lena,” she says fervently, tone heated. “You deserve so much better.”

Lena’s head tilts to one side, a smile gracing her lips, eyes becoming wonderfully bright once more (and Kara feels that flutter and shudder, that tingling from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes).

“I have you,” she whispers, almost like she doesn’t want Kara to hear her, not knowing Kara’s ears could have caught the words from miles upon miles away, not knowing that sometimes—when she concentrates hard enough—Kara can time her breathing with the steady beat of Lena’s heart, no matter the distance between them. “I’d say that’s more than enough.”

And Lena’s words, her eyes, her smile…well, they do funny things to Kara’s heart.

 

x

 

“Settling in well, Miss Danvers?” Henshaw asks her when she collapses heavily in the seat across from his desk, tugging at her robes and sighing at the tea he offers her, clearly intending this meeting to take some time. They have quite a few of them throughout the year, most of the lasting a few minutes as he makes sure she’s okay and following all his rules. She doesn’t exactly see the need for it, nor does she like spending an extended period of time with Hank Henshaw, but Alex had glared at her when she suggested skipping out on the meeting.

“I’ve been at Hogwarts for two years now, Professor,” Kara says, a hint of bitterness in her tone, prompting Henshaw to raise his eyebrows, “I know how things work now. You don’t need to monitor me.”

“You misunderstand,” he tells her in his deep, rumbling voice, looking a lot like he’s trying to quell a smile. “I’m not monitoring you, I’m protecting you.”

“Professor—”

“You must have read the papers, Kara,” he interrupts, the use of her first name stunning her into silence, mouth falling open. “This is a very dangerous time for people like you.” He stands, hands clasping behind his back, his shoulders looking rather stiff and uncomfortable. “You can’t know this, but Lex Luthor’s influence has reached the Ministry itself, Mr. Kent and I are quite sure that the Auror Office has been infiltrated with…well, persons who hold anti-alien sentiments. It seems they target suspected aliens and—my point is, Hogwarts is not as safe as we would like to think.” He begins to pace, looking harried—looking more than a little worried. “The Headmistress is doing all she can, but we cannot help you, we cannot protect you, if you choose to put yourself in danger.”

“I haven’t done anything!” Kara says, offended. “I haven’t—I don’t use my powers, I haven’t even _tried_ in over a year.”

“That’s not my issue—”

“—and I know more about this world and I don’t slip up as often anymore, but everyone lets it go when I do because I’m _the clumsy Danvers_ and it’s not a big deal. What else am I supposed to be doing, what else am I supposed to hide?” she demands furiously, forgetting that this is her professor, that she’s a prefect. For a moment, she’s one of the last Kryptonians, offended and horrified that she’s being asked to lock more parts of her past away—to lose those last tendrils connecting her to her lost culture, her dead planet.

“You may not like hiding, but—”

“—no, I know what you’re asking me to do and it’s certainly not _hiding_ ,” Kara manages to say. “You want me to _give up_ Krypton, and I won’t. I’m not going to stop going to the tower, I’m not going to stop using Kryptonian, I’m not going to give up my beliefs and culture. I will not give up who I am.”

“And Luthor?” Henshaw asks, getting to his point at last, finally— _finally_ —showing his hand. “Will you continue your friendship with her and throw yourself in the line of fire?”

“What does Lena have to do with anything?” Kara shoots back, now on her feet as well, unable to help the glare she shoots Henshaw’s way, professor and so-called protector be damned. He studies her for a moment, expression—to Kara’s ultimate horror—growing considerably softer, the worry easing away only to be replaced with pity. (And pity isn’t something Kara wants, because pity implies something that Kara’s not even willing to contemplate—something she hasn’t contemplated at all since sitting down across from Lena in the library that first time, stumbling headfirst into a friendship and never looking back. She doesn’t like the pity in Henshaw’s eyes because his pity suggests he thinks Kara’s wrong about Lena, and she’s not. She’s _not._ )

“Regardless of how you may feel about your friend, Miss Danvers,” he tells her softly, the switch back to formality not lost on Kara, the concern in his eyes serving to only further infuriate her, “Lena is still a Luthor. You may not understand what that means, but she certainly does.”

Kara huffs, arms crossed over her chest and chin raised high. She ignores that her glasses are slipping down the bridge of her nose, ignores the fact that there’s a splatter of ink on her sleeve, just barely visible from under her robes. She ignores that she’s only fifteen, an alien on a strange planet, and that the man in front of her is one of the few who know her secret—who, to use his own words, has put himself in the line of fire to protect her.

She ignores it because in this moment, she doesn’t really care.

“Thank you for all your help, but I don’t want your protection, Professor.” She’s halfway across the office, nearly at the door, before Henshaw decides to respond.

“You may not want it, Miss Danvers,” he says, sounding sad, sounding knowing, sounding terribly broken. It makes her pause. “But you do need it.”

She swallows, doesn’t deign to look back or answer, and stalks out of Henshaw’s office.

 

x

 

The first few weeks of term go by in a flash.

Most fifth years have been scared into studying harder in preparation for their OWLs, the seventh years far too focused on NEWTS to care for much else, and the third years impatiently counting down the days until their very first Hogsmeade trip.

For the most part, things are as normal as ever, students get caught in empty classrooms, lose House points and blush furiously when a prefect sends them off to their respective common rooms. The library is back to its gentle hum of whispering, heads ducked together as books and notes are passed around, muttering idly about the unfairness of the coursework assigned. The Great Hall is vociferous, the dungeons still feel creepy, and the Ravenclaws are still gloating about their House Cup win the previous year.

But beneath it all there’s a new undercurrent that unnerves Kara. Students from Gryffindor tease a girl from Slytherin, accusing her of being an alien until she bursts into tears, Alex being forced to take points and send the Gryffindors on their way. On another occasion, it becomes quite clear that the term ‘mudblood’ is preferable to being accused of being an alien. A Ravenclaw suggests they create a spell to identify aliens, a notion Professor Grant shuts down that very night, stating in no uncertain terms that such talk won’t be tolerated.

But the most obvious change at Hogwarts is how students treat _Lena_.

In a matter of weeks, a student’s attitude towards Lena becomes an indicator of their mindset on aliens. Those who remain cruel to her, who knock her books over as they pass, who ask Peeves to pull pranks on her, they claim they do so because of who she is, bringing up her brother and family and every single wrong they’d ever done. It becomes perfectly acceptable to treat her poorly, a moral prerogative even, for the sin of sharing Lex’s last name. (Never mind that she’d done nothing to deserve the hate or vitriol, never mind that she stopped reading the paper altogether to avoid any and all mentions of her brother, never mind that they’re all hypocrites—the worst offenders when it comes to accusing others of being alien.) But even worse, in Kara’s opinion, are the students who suddenly become positively friendly—the ones who grin as they pass by, with less than subtle winks and knowing looks, seemingly thinking that Lena shares Lex’s point of view on aliens, and by extension their own.

(Kara thinks it’s disgusting, the way these very same people left Lena out to dry when it was unacceptable to hold such views publicly, now holding their arms wide open as a shift occurs in social tolerance, widely proclaiming Lena to be one of their own, a part of their secret hate that they now realize doesn’t need to be so secret.

It’s cowardly and _wrong_ , not only because none of them actually know Lena, but because all of them seem to think that she agrees with them—that she too hisses ‘ _alien_ ’ at students she doesn’t like, that she too laughs along with them when an alien is outed and goes through the worst sort of treatment before Cat Grant swoops in to save the day, which normally means the alien is shipped off to Beauxbatons.)

Not much has changed at Hogwarts. Students still go to classes, professors still sigh at essays that are several inches too short, relationship drama and gossip still thrives, and a first year (usually a Gryffindor) inevitably accepts a challenge from an older student to touch the base of the Whomping Willow (usually not ending very well for the first year in question).

Not much has changed, but the things that _have_? Well, it sends a chill down Kara’s spine, and Hogwarts ceases to feel like a home.

 

x

 

“Alex?” Kara whispers, tapping her sister’s cheek lightly. “Are you awake?” Alex groans, pulling her covers over her head and turning so that her back was to Kara. “Alex. _Alex_. I need a sister night, Alex.”

(September had given away to October with furious and non-stop rain, temperatures steadily dropping, and tensions at Hogwarts at an all time high. In that time, she had accidentally stumbled on a second year boy named Peter who was frantically trying to hide that his diet was…different, actually bursting into tears when Kara assured him that not only would she not tell another soul, but she’d help him sneak into the dungeon for the salamander skins he claimed almost tasted like the foods he’d had back on his own planet.

It had been a humbling moment, but more than that, it had been _heartbreaking._ )

“Go away, Kara,” Alex mumbles, gripping her covers so tightly that Kara thinks she might actually tear it. “It’s sleeping time. Sister night can happen tomorrow. When I’m awake.”

“I want to help,” Kara says, ignoring Alex entirely, pushing her sister over with ease and fitting herself into the bed, smiling when Alex lets out a long-suffering sigh and pulls the covers off her face to glare at Kara.

“Okay, how about you help me and let me sleep?”

“No, Alex, I want to help the other students like me.” She waits patiently as Alex blinks several times, watching in real time as the words finally register in Alex’s brain and the sleepy glare is slowly replaced by wide eyes and an expression that can only be described as the physical embodiment of ‘ _why_ ’.

“You want to _what_?” Alex asks, propping herself up on her elbow to see Kara better, now apparently wide awake. “You decided to break a bunch of school rules to sneak into my dormitory in the middle of the night to tell me something that you _know_ I won’t agree with? Kara, what are you—”

“I was sent to Earth to protect Kal—”

“—which is all well and great, but _Clark_ is an adult and doesn’t need your protection,” Alex interrupts, rubbing her eyes tiredly, her use of ‘Clark’ clearly intended as a rebuke, a reminder. “You get to be a normal teenager, Kara. You get the chance to go to school and have crushes and not worry about anything dangerous.”

Kara blinks and finds herself inching away from Alex, a little lost as to how wrong Alex is, at how disconnected they are.

“I’m not a normal teenager, though,” she says, and though her voice is soft something must show on her face because Alex flinches and reaches out towards her. “I’ll never be normal on this planet.”

“Kara—”

“No, you don’t—I just…there’s no way you could understand.” She rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling, unsure how to word her thoughts. “My normal was preparing for the Science Guild and traveling to different planets and spending nights watching the lights of Argo City as I waited for my Aunt Astra to return home from whatever had required her to leave Krypton. It was a red sun and a people who were isolationists but who believed in potential.” She pauses, takes a shuddering breath, and shakes her head. “I love Earth, I love Hogwarts, I love chocolate and that pizza Eliza ordered us over the summer, I love _you_ , but…” She trails off, unable to continue.

“But it’s not the same.”

“No,” she gasps out thankfully, turning to Alex and seeing something strangely comforting in her eyes—an understanding, an acceptance, a look she’d only seen on Henshaw’s face and had chafed at. “No, it’s not.”

Alex searches for her hand, grasping it tightly and shifting enough so that her head rests on Kara’s shoulder.

“You deserve to be here,” Alex informs her gently. “You’ve been through enough, you deserve to be _happy_. There’s nothing you have to prove.”

(And _oh_ maybe Kara jumped to conclusions, maybe she and Alex aren’t disconnected at all, maybe her sister had caught on to the exact issue long before Kara had.

She thinks she gives her sister too little credit.)

“Maybe not, but I want to prove it anyway. I could be doing _so much_ , Alex. All I need is a chance.”

“I’ll talk to Professor Henshaw,” Alex tells her, yawning as she does so, reminding Kara that it’s long past midnight and unlike herself, Alex needs to sleep. “In the morning remind me to yell at you for sneaking out of your dormitory and sneaking into mine.” Her eyes flutter shut and she makes herself more comfortable against Kara. “Who even let you into the tower?”

“No one,” she answers, shrugging and making Alex let out an annoyed huff as her head is jostled. “The riddles are easy, you Ravenclaws aren’t as clever as you like to think.”

“No,” Alex agrees, clearly half-asleep if she’s so easily denouncing her own House. “Cleverness is overrated. More people should be strong like you.”

And even hours later, while Alex snores away and Kara refuses to move out of fear of waking Alex up, she still doesn’t have a response to Alex’s comment, wondering if Alex had always seen her in such a way and feeling warm in light of it.

 

x

 

The first Hogsmeade trip falls on Halloween and though Kara’s not exactly thrilled about it, she can’t help but get into the spirit when James and Lucy are smiling so wide and even Lena seems vaguely excited, chattering on and on about a new sweet at Honeydukes that she’s _sure_ Kara will love.

“Let’s go to The Hog’s Head,” Winn says as they trudge into the village, braving the cold and crowds, attempting to avoid the third years excitedly rushing about. Lena gives Kara a sympathetic look when she winces after a few of the younger students begin shouting at each other. (It has her heart racing, her palms clammy, and though she appreciates the way Lena presses against her shoulder, almost as if she’s attempting to ground Kara, it also scares her—because what if Lena knows? What if she isn’t just protecting her sensitive friend, but attempting to soothe an alien who after two years still feels overwhelmed by crowds and lights and loud noises?) James and Lucy eye Kara, clearly waiting for her to make the decision. “It’s less crowded,” Winn offers, staring at her fingernails as he speaks, attempting to sound casual and failing miserably.

“How did you know?” Kara asks dumbly, stopping suddenly and staring at her four friends. She ignores the students who mumble angrily as they shove past her, annoyed by the sudden rock-like presence blocking their way.

“Well,” James begins, rubbing the back of his neck, shrugging and looking to Lucy for help—which she seems all too happy to provide.

“You hate when the benches drag along the stone after dinner,” she says, holding up a finger. “You’re _super_ tense during Quidditch games, and you _never_ go to any of the parties afterward.” She holds up another finger. “You hate Hogsmeade trips, but Alex let slip that the two of you have snuck into the village before.” She starts to hold up another finger, but James grabs her hand and shakes his head.

“I think she gets the point,” he chuckles.

“We know you get overwhelmed, Kara,” Lena says softly, suddenly much closer than before, sending Kara’s heart into a fit of panic. She thinks she can feel Lena’s breath on her ear. “And we want you to have fun with us, not wishing you could go back to the castle where it’s quiet.”

“Right,” Winn cuts in, looking a little impatient. “And they also serve firewhiskey to whoever asks. Don’t even care if you’re a student,” he tacks on dreamily. His comment is met with four identical unimpressed looks. “What? I obviously want Kara to be comfortable, the firewhiskey is a fun bonus.”

Kara rolls her eyes, grabs Lena by the hand, and leads her friends towards the Hog’s Head, ignoring Winn’s excitement behind her and Lucy’s imitations of Winn’s giggling.

(She’s…thrilled. Thrilled is the word. What they did for her, what they noticed, it means more to Kara than she can say. Because they _cared_ , they cared enough to pay attention and to think of a solution and maybe it shouldn’t come as such a shock, she’d always known her friends were amazing, but she’s shocked nonetheless.

In a time when it’s dangerous to even be associated with an alien, her friends had gone out of their way to make sure she’s comfortable.

Then again…none of them know she’s an alien.)

In fact, Kara’s rather happy, all things considered, until she actually steps into the Hog’s Head, immediately stepping right back out.

“Kara, what—”

“I have to go. I have to—prefect duties,” she stutters out, taking several more steps back, bumping into a man who is attempting to walk past her and into the pub. When he blinks down at her, he does so with more than one set of eyelids.

“Prefect duties?” Lena repeats with wide eyes, “Alex never said anything—Kara? Kara, where are you going?”

But she’s long past listening. She pulls her hand out of Lena’s grasp and practically flees.

 

x

 

She doesn’t move when she hears someone approach her, familiar with the sound of this particular heartbeat, unsurprised when she feels a warm presence settle down on the ground next to her, neither of them breaking the silence.

(She knew Lena would track her down, knew Lena would likely head to the astronomy tower first, and had tried to circumvent a conversation by spending several hours holed up in Alex’s dormitory, waiting until dinner is well underway before finding herself at the one place in the castle that makes her feel safe.

In hindsight, she should’ve known it wouldn’t work.)

“I’m sorry I ran,” she finally says, the silence becoming suffocating. She’s felt this way before, of course. Felt as if the walls around her are collapsing, that the ground beneath her feet is crumbling. She’s felt as if reality itself is unraveling around her, leaving her reeling and unbalanced and struggling to breathe. She’s felt this way every time she wakes up from a dream about Krypton, every time she sees Clark and she remembers that she was spared for no reason, that he doesn’t even need her.

(She feels this way every time she thinks that maybe it would’ve been better if she shared her parents’ fate, her planet’s fate.)

“Staring up at the sky makes me feel…insignificant,” she informs Kara, not quite ignoring the apology, but rather speeding right past it. “Especially now, knowing that there’s so much out there?” She stops and it makes Kara turn her head, studying the curve of Lena’s lips, the flutter of her eyelashes as she blinked up at the night sky. “Whole worlds, Kara,” she says, awed. “With life beyond anything we could even imagine on Earth.”

Kara wonders what Lena’s trying to say. She wonders if she’s hinting that she knows why Kara ran, if she’s saying that she knows Kara’s secret, or if she’s just making conversation and has touched on the very topic Kara can’t stop thinking about on complete accident.

“Do you want to know what I see when I look up?” Kara says, turning away from Lena and staring up at the sky instead. “I don’t feel small, Lena. I feel…I stop feeling so alone.” She feels Lena reach for her hand, but she pulls away, using it to point towards the sky. “Sometimes, if I concentrate hard enough, I can almost imagine that I’ll just float away. That I’ll reach up and what’s out there will reach down and— _Rao_ , I just want to be connected to something.” Her hand drops back to her side, and her vision blurs, and Kara knows she’s seconds away from crying—something she finds she really doesn’t want to do in front of Lena. For her part, Lena is silent, clearly digesting Kara’s comment. Then, inexplicably, she chuckles softly.

“It’s funny,” she says, a forced sort of mirth in her tone, “I used to feel alone too. And then I met you.”

And when she reaches for Kara’s hand once more, Kara lets her.

And when she squeezes gently, Kara allows herself to cry.

 

x

 

She finds Alex in the Entrance Hall, staring out onto the grounds—towards the lake—with narrowed eyes and an unhappy expression, hands on her hips and robes billowing behind her rather dramatically. (If Kara had been braver, she would have laughed.)

“You seem…angry,” Kara says as she walks up to her sister, tugging on Alex’s scarf, exposing her to the cold air, and grinning when Alex shoots her a glare in response.

“It’s _her_ ,” she hisses, leaning against the wall.

“Who’s _her_?”

“ _Maggie_.”

“Maggie?”

“ _Maggie_ ,” Alex stresses, looking at Kara like she’s not quite sure if she’s being heard. It might have something to do with the fact that Kara’s trying very hard not to laugh. It might have to do with the fact that it’s the first time she’s seen Alex so…lost, so terribly unsure and floundering.

“What did Maggie do?”

Alex bites her lip, turns to look over at Maggie again, then eyes Kara warily.

“Do you swear you won’t laugh?” she asks nervously, looking honestly worried about it. Kara smiles and leans against the wall as well, making sure she’s pressed against her sister, to offer up some of her warmth has Alex shivers in the cold.

“On my honor,” Kara swears, a little bit of that solemnity lost when she giggles. For whatever reason, though, Alex seems to think it’s enough.

“Yesterday,” she begins slowly, avoiding Kara’s eyes entirely, “Maggie stayed behind after the prefects’ meeting, and—”

“—you really should make those shorter, Alex. Lena nearly fell asleep, and Lena manages to stay awake all through History of Magic, what does that say about your—”

“—can I finish before you spend an hour talking about Lena?” Alex asks flatly, raising her eyebrows.

“I don’t talk about Lena that much—you’re right, this is about you, please continue,” she tacks on, watching as Alex becomes more and more unimpressed.

“Like I was saying,” she continues tightly at Kara’s prodding, “Maggie stayed behind. And I—well, I, um…I kissed her?”

“Are you not sure you kissed her or…?”

“No, I mean, yes. I’m sure. I kissed her.”

Kara stares at Alex, waiting for the part that’s supposed to make her want to laugh, unsure if that’s the whole story. When Alex just stares back, she realizes that that _is_ the whole story.

“Okay. So how did the kiss go? Did you like it?”

“No. Well, yes,” she admits grudgingly, not at all happy about that fact. “But it’s _Maggie_. She…she doesn’t think the Head Girl can tell prefects what to do. We _can_. Kara, we _can_ ,” Alex repeats, as if Kara missed the first thousand or so times she’d complained about this particular issue. Kara bites her lip to keep from laughing, worried that her smile is growing too wide.

“Did she kiss you back?” Kara asks, waggling her eyebrows and earning a slap to her arm for her efforts.

“I didn’t,” Alex starts haltingly, blushing for whatever reason, “I didn’t give her the chance to. I kissed her for like a split second and then, um, ran.”

“You _ran_? Was it really so bad?”

“You know what, you’re not taking this seriously,” Alex huffs, pushing off the wall and walking briskly away. Kara rushes after her, still unable to hold back the laughter she promised to rein in.

“I am! Alex, wait! I’m taking it seriously!”

Alex stops at the foot of the stairs, eyeing Kara critically.

“What do I do?” she asks, voice soft and vulnerable and Kara feels her smile slip right off her face. Without allowing Alex a chance to protest, she pulls her sister into a tight hug.

“She’d be crazy not to like you too.”

“You think?” Alex whispers in Kara’s ear, obviously unconvinced.

“I do,” Kara confirms, tightening her hold when she feels Alex nod into her shoulder. “Talk to her. And maybe don’t run away this time?”

Alex pulls away, a determined set to her expression, eyes fiery and hands back on her hips.

“Right. I can do this.”

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” Kara guesses when Alex doesn’t move. Her sister nods quickly, looking relieved until Kara grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her towards the doors and out onto the grounds. “Go get the girl, Alex. And fix your scarf. It’s freezing out there.”

(That night, Kara sneaks into Alex’s dormitory to learn that, when given a chance, Maggie is all too happy to kiss back.)

 

x

 

She’s quietly explaining to a second year that he can’t use jinxes during dinner when the Great Hall falls completely silent. At the Head table, Professor Grant gets to her feet, making the action look terribly impressive even if she looks comically small in front of her chair.

“Before you all head up to your common rooms, I have an announcement,” she says, bracing her hands on the table and lean forward. She looks like she always does when she’s dragged to a Quidditch game—as if she’d rather be anywhere else. “Much like all of you, I read the _Daily Prophet_. I’ve heard the so-called horror stories about aliens that some peddle, I’ve even seen some of you _act_ cruelly towards your fellow classmates because of these stories.” She pauses, eyes the students in such a way that Kara’s rather sure she’s looking into their very souls. “Tomorrow, the majority of you will go home for the holidays where you might be exposed to even more stories, personal anecdotes from people you trust and love.” She sighs, shifts so that she’s resting her weight on one leg, hand on hip. “Quite frankly, however, I don’t particularly care what sort of stories or tales you hear. Here at Hogwarts we strive for _excellence_ , for the very best.” A few students whistle and others begin to laugh, silenced almost immediately by the force of Cat Grant’s glare. “In my world, excellence means that we treat each other with respect and dignity, that we ignore speculation and fear mongering in favor of logic and reasoning. In my world, you students will go off and be faced with all sorts of influence, but when you return to Hogwarts, you will be ready to learn, no thought to the student next to you—not their House, not their blood status, not their gender, and not their _species_.” She ignores the whispers that spring up at her words, waving a hand and silencing them all. And somehow, between all those students, Kara _knows_ that Professor Grant is staring directly at her, that last stressed word feeling rather ominous. “I know none of you will let me down,” she says, her voice becoming positively dangerous. “After all, as long as you attend Hogwarts, you live in _my_ world, and I expect you to abide by my rules.”

There’s a long pause, most of the student body unsure if Professor Grant has finished, the others still blinking away their shock at the Headmistress’ stance on aliens. When the silence stretches on too long, bordering on awkward, Cat Grant clicks her tongue and shakes her head.

“All right. You’re dismissed!”

Everyone remains in their seat until their Head Girl spurs into action.

“You heard the Professor!” she calls. “Prefects—”

Kara doesn’t hear the rest of Alex’s orders. She’s performing her duties mindlessly, almost like muscle memory, all the while attempting to avoid Cat Grant’s knowing gaze.

 

x  

 

She had hoped to see her cousin, at least on Christmas, but it’s Henshaw and not Clark who shows up to the Danvers home, looking curiously out of place in his robes when he sits down at the dinner table.

He does all the right things, of course: he compliments the food, patiently answers all of Eliza’s questions about the biological implications in transformative magic, even jokingly chides and embarrasses Alex when he mentions she was late for her Head Girl duties the morning everyone was heading home because she was too busy saying goodbye to Maggie. In fact, despite her argument with him back in September, Kara rather thinks the dinner with Henshaw is going remarkably well, and she sort of relishes having him around, pleasantly surprised by his opinions on aliens, their struggles to assimilate, the difficulty of carving out a new home for oneself.

So naturally, he has to ruin it.

“Miss Danvers,” he says, cornering her on her way to the kitchen, carrying more dirty dishes than a normal human probably could, Jeremiah—who had been right behind them—conveniently absent suddenly. “A word?”

“I have to—”

“I’ll take care of it, Kara,” Alex says, flicking her wand and levitating the dishes right out of Kara’s hands and into the kitchen, despite Eliza’s shout of ‘No magic in the house!’

Henshaw gestures towards Jeremiah’s home office, and with a sigh, Kara dutifully follows him, hovering in the doorway as Henshaw leans heavily on the desk.

“Alex told me about your desire to help aliens like yourself,” he says slowly, arms crossed over his chest.

“And let me guess, you think it’s a bad idea?”

“On the contrary, I agree.” Her incredulity must show on her face, because he laughs—actually laughs. “I admit, I didn’t at first, but Alex…debated…passionately on your behalf.” He grows somber as he speaks, and Kara straightens subconsciously. “Alex is nearly finished with her schooling, and I’ll need a student on my side. Training you, someone who already knows the existence of our program, while she’s still around would be an efficient solution to this dilemma. More importantly, however,” and here he pauses, looking a bit reluctant, looking a bit resigned, looking a bit unsure, “I think there’s no one better suited than you. By Earth’s standards, I’m an ancient man, Miss Danvers. I’ve found that with age it becomes easy to forget that sometimes potential danger isn’t a strong enough deterrent when it comes to fighting for what we believe in.”

Kara nods dumbly, still stuck on what seemed a fairly innocuous phrase, but sounded rather strange.

“What do you mean, _by Earth’s standards_?”  

“Yes, well,” Henshaw says, standing up straight and uncrossing his arms. “You and I will be working together, and in the spirit of that, it’s time I trusted you with the secret you entrusted to me.”

He begins to glow, red lines appearing all over his body, robes changing into a tight fitting suit and skin turning a bright green.

“Hello, Kara Zor-El,” an alien with a voice that sounds remarkably like Henshaw’s says. “I am J’onn J’onzz, the last son of Mars.”

Kara doesn’t manage much more than several blinks in a row, but once again, something must show on her face, because Henshaw—no, J’onzz—softens considerably as she finally finds words.

“You’re—you’re alone.”

(She thinks back to the looks her gave her, the understanding in his gaze, and she realizes he _does_ understand, he understands better than anyone. He knows what it means to be the last of a culture and a world.)

“I am the last like you, Kara,” J’onn J’onzz tells her, shaking his head, “but no. You and I are not alone.”

 

x

 

She and Lena are alone in their compartment, Lena completely engrossed in a book while Kara stares idly out of the window, thoughts on J’onn’s reveal and his promises to include her more in the effort to protect aliens—both in and out of Hogwarts. She’s excited, she’s glad, she’s wanted to feel useful for some time now, but the work J’onn seems to want from her feels…insufficient. He asks for observation and quiet intervention, but Kara wants to shout from the astronomy tower, she wants to step in when students go after each other, wants to _act_.

“Kara?” Lena says, interrupting her thoughts and pulling her gaze away from the window and towards her best friend. “Are you all right?”

(She’s pretty today. To be fair, Lena’s always pretty, but today it’s different. Her hair is down, her glasses are lopsided, the top few buttons of her shirt are undone. She looks disheveled and normal and _pretty_.

It does funny things to Kara’s heart.)

“Yeah. Just distracted I suppose.”

“Bad holiday?”

“Likely better than yours,” Kara says with a shrug, smiling when her comment makes Lena laugh. “I wish you could have visited,” she adds after a beat, watching Lena’s face fall with a heavy heart. “I wish you could just stay with us.”

“Kara—”

“—I know, I know. Once you’re seventeen, you’re free. I just…I’m not patient, I suppose.”

Lena studies her for a moment, then puts her book away, getting up from her seat and settling down right next to Kara, shoulders pressed tightly together.

“Kara,” she starts, leaning her head on Kara’s shoulder and effectively shutting down all possibility of eye contact, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Is it about not doing patrols properly again? I apologized, and Alex doesn’t even care—”

“—no, but Kara, I—”

She never gets to finish her sentence. She’s cut off by the compartment door sliding open violently, Lucy stalking in with Winn hot on her heels, expressions disgruntled. James follows them in more slowly, looking like this isn’t out of the ordinary at all.

“Even with a girlfriend, your sister finds time to ruin everyone’s fun,” Lucy says, narrowing her eyes at Kara.

“Alex refused to use her ‘powers’ to give the Gryffindors more practice time on the Quidditch pitch,” James explains with a grin, giving Lucy a fond look.

“So why is Winn so upset?” Lena asks, pointing to Winn’s blue and silver crest and raising her eyebrows.

“Alex canceled all Gobstones Club meetings this term,” he explains flatly. “Apparently, there’s been one accident too many since we made it more extreme—what? Gobstones can be extreme,” he protests when he notices their dubious looks. “It _can_ ,” he insists.

He huffs when everyone just laughs.

 

x

 

She doesn’t remain in the dark about what Lena had been trying to say for long. In fact, less than a week later, the issue stares up at her from the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ , Kara’s toast hanging halfway out of her mouth, tea becoming cold as she remains focused on the paper.

Because there, before Kara’s very eyes, is a photo of Lex Luthor in front of his family’s home, Lena and Lillian next to him, not looking surprised at all to see the most wanted man in the wizarding world at their front doorstep.

Kara swallows quickly then looks around, spotting Lena’s more pale than usual face in no time. Before she’s quite aware of what she’s doing, she’s rushing across the Great Hall, pulls Lena to her feet, and leads her by the elbow towards the staircase.

“I wanted to tell you, Kara,” she says as they walk, sounding anxious. “But I—”

“It’s fine, let’s just get you out of here before—”

Before they’re stopped, she wanted to say, groaning when large Gryffindor boy blocks their way, his arms crossed over his chest and a copy of the paper in his hands. Kara uses one arm to gently push Lena behind her, the other tightening around her wand.

“Get out of our way, Patrick,” she says, raising her chin.

“Oh, come off it, Danvers. You can’t honestly be defending her. She was caught _red-handed_.” He holds up the paper, pointing to the picture of Lex, where he’s now giving Lena a one-armed hug. It’s rather damning, the photo-Lex’s timing terribly inconvenient. “She’s guilty!”

“I’m not joking, Patrick,” Kara says lowly, abandoning the clumsy Kara Danvers persona without a second thought and stand up to her fullest height, setting her shoulders, and taking a step forward. She feels Lena pull out of her grasp, so she shifts slightly to make sure Lena’s not in Patrick’s line of sight. “You need to think about this carefully,” she tells him. “Do you really want to break the rules in front of two prefects?”

“Her brother is out there killing innocent people for just being _associated_ with aliens, and you think I care about a few school rules?”

“That’s Lex, not Lena.”

“She’s in the photo, Kara!” Patrick yells, garnering more attention. Students begin to approach, Alex shoves her way forward with haste, and even J’onn— _Henshaw_ , Henshaw at Hogwarts—looks vaguely concerned and makes his way over to intervene. “You can’t honestly tell me that it means nothing!”

“I’m telling you that Lex Luthor’s actions don’t define Lena.”

“You wouldn’t understand, you’re from Ilvermorny. You don’t understand what it’s like to have someone like Voldemort around again.”

“Shut up, Patrick,” Alex says as she arrives, rolling her eyes. “You were born long after the war, you don’t understand either.”

“Why are you taking this so _well_?” he demands, several students murmuring in agreement. “She spent her Christmas with her mass murderer brother, and that doesn’t give you pause?”

“That’s not our job,” Alex says, placing a hand on Kara’s shoulder, clearly trying to make her relax. “There are Aurors for that, if they think Lena’s done something wrong, they’ll be the ones to take care of it.” She looks all around, glaring at the students that have gathered. “That goes for all of you. You’re not the law enforcement, stop pretending you are. This is a school, act like it.”

“You heard your Head Girl,” Henshaw booms. “You’re dismissed!”

Students scatter as Kara turns to make sure Lena’s all right, blinking in shock when she realizes Lena’s gone. She’s about to ask Alex if she saw where Lena went when Patrick snorts derisively.

“She turned tail and ran ages ago,” he says, tossing the paper at Kara. “Makes you wonder what sort of person you’re defending. See you around, Danvers,” he finishes, the goodbye sounding a lot like a threat.

“Like I said,” Henshaw says as he watches the last of the students trudge off, “Lena is a Luthor.”

“I know her last name, Professor,” Kara snaps, shrugging Alex off and walking quickly away, not really wanting to wait and see if her rudeness would cost her points.

 

x

 

She’s in her alcove in the library, head buried in a book, hair curtaining her face, when Kara finally tracks her down. She doesn’t move when Kara sits down next to her, doesn’t speak when Kara wraps an arm around her shoulders, doesn’t breathe when Kara presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

“You’re not your brother, Lena,” Kara says, knowing it for a fact, certain of this one thing in a world where very little makes sense to her—despite being on Earth for over two years. Lena doesn’t respond, just burrows into Kara’s side, holding on to her tightly enough that Kara thinks she’d be uncomfortable had she been human. “I’m not going anywhere,” Kara swears, thinking of what Lena had told her that night in the astronomy tower. “You’re not alone and I’m not going anywhere.”

 

x

 

Alex is waiting for her when she makes her way to the Ravenclaw common room that night, grinning when Kara’s eyes narrow.

“What?” she asks with faux innocence. “I just thought it’d be better if I let you in. Makes us Ravenclaws seem like we know what we’re doing,” Alex continues as she leads Kara towards the staircase leading up to the dormitories. Kara only listens to Alex with half an ear, waving cheerily as they pass Winn sprawled on the couch in front of the fire, eyes roving around the common room searching for Lena. “She’s been holed up in the fifth year girls’ dormitory all afternoon. Claire says she’s been sleeping.”

“I should go see her—”

“—no, you should leave her alone,” Alex says, grabbing Kara’s hand and pulling her past the fifth year girls’ dormitory. “She needs time to process, and sometimes that means her best friend giving her space.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know, but you don’t have to. Besides, I need to talk to you, too.”

Kara frowns at the way Alex says it, like she’s not exactly looking forward to the conversation, which in Kara’s experience hasn’t been the way Alex treated their sister nights.

“If you’re about to tell me I shouldn’t have been so hard on Patrick, I—” Kara begins hotly, following Alex into her and watching her close the wooden door behind her and lean against it, eyes directed at the floor.

“—I was going to tell you to stay away from Lena Luthor.”

“I…stay—wait. What?”

“Clark, Dad, and… _others_ have determined that it’s likely Lena and her mother are working with Lex. It’s probably why he’s escaped detection for so long, hiding in plain sight.”

“You think—but…do you even _hear_ yourself? Lena’s not— _Rao_ , Alex, Lena’s not working with her brother!”

Her protest doesn’t sit very well with Alex.

“And you’re willing to risk your life on that? You’ve been _careless,_ Kara. Lena’s asked me about Rao, wanting to know if it was an Ilvermorny thing. She’s not stupid and you—”

“—she’s my best friend, and you didn’t have an issue with her before—”

“—because before there was no evidence to back up my suspicions! But now there is. And you need to be _safe_ ,” Alex says heatedly, throwing her hands up in the air. Kara, however, is too busy taking several steps away from Alex, shaking her head in shock.

“You—this entire time you’ve had an issue with Lena?”

“Of course I did! She’s a Luthor, Kara. However nice she is, whatever she says to you, you can’t get out of a family like that unscathed. It’s not just people like Patrick who think like that, it’ll be everyone at Hogwarts.”

Kara’s hands clench into fists.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lena’s a good person.”

“Kara, I _hope_ she is,” Alex says, clearly trying for another tactic. “But _you’re_ my sister, and I’m not going to compromise your safety.”

“I’m not giving up on her,” Kara says coldly, heading for the door and waiting for Alex to move aside so that she can leave.

“Kara, please—”

“You’re my sister, but she’s my best friend. And I can’t give up on her.”

Alex doesn’t protest any further, uncharacteristically accepting defeat as she steps aside to let Kara pass.

 

x

 

Eventually, Kara’s fight with Alex doesn’t matter anyway. Lena begins to distance herself over the next several months, claiming it’s because she’s studying for the OWLs, all but shutting herself in the library, leaving only for meals and lessons.

James and Lucy—ardent Superman supporters—don’t seem as inclined to spend time with Kara when Lena’s around, and though Winn valiantly attempts to act as a buffer, their friend group splinters. Alex doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ but Kara would almost rather she did.

Lex Luthor is finally apprehended the week before the OWLs. It’s all over the _Prophet_ , a black and white moving picture of an enraged and mad Lex Luthor covering the front page, the bold headline reading: _Lex Luthor Brought to Justice by Superman_.

Kara looks at the byline, sees Clark’s name, and tosses the newspaper aside, abandoning the Great Hall and her breakfast in favor of heading straight to the library, knowing that Lena will be hiding in her alcove, head buried in the books she clings so hard to when she’s sad.

But when Kara attempts to offer comfort, Lena sends her away.

And on the train ride back home, Kara sits in her compartment all alone (Alex with Maggie, Winn secretly holding a Gobstones Club meeting, Lena...somewhere), knees drawn up to her chest, the feelings she associated with Lena suddenly replaced by a churning of fear and worry she can’t escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops it's been forever. hopefully the last chapter won't take so long?


End file.
